


The Snake, The Lion, and The Grim

by The_Curious_Crow



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Almost Slytherin Ron Weasley, Both Granger Parents are Doctors, But also a dumb dumb, Dursley Family Bashing (Harry Potter), Everyone is still Gryffindor, Except Neville Longbottom, FTM Harry Potter, Granger family - Freeform, Gray!Harry, Grey Harry Potter, Grey Hermione Granger, Grey Ron Weasley, Harry is DenseAF, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, Hufflepuff Neville Longbottom, I'll let you guess who practices Muggle Witchcraft, It take Harry a few months to realize why he hates himself, Like Harry is Smart, Multi, Not Beta Read, Other, POC Hermione Granger, Parental Nagini (Harry Potter), Protective Nagini (Harry Potter), Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Sentient Hogwarts, So far we have: - Freeform, Tags are up to change, They Deserve worse, They are still both densits, Trans Male Character, Trans Male Character Written by a Trans Male, but both have the moniker of Dr., muggle witchcraft, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:41:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27746149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Curious_Crow/pseuds/The_Curious_Crow
Summary: The scrape of scales on the musty stonework floor of The Leaky Cauldron went unnoticed.Ronald Weasley would give anything to be in the limelight, just this once he would prove himself.The more Hermione tried to socialize with her peers all throughout school, the more they called her weird and strange. It hurt to not be able to talk with many people, but she had her books.Dahlia used to hope that someone would notice the smudges on her face or the callouses on her hands, maybe even the difference in size between her and her cousin Dudley; now though all she could do was count the small cuts and burns on her hands and arms to alleviate her boredom.Author Here! To Clarify somethings: Hermione is mixed, Hispanic and English specifically. Ron gets a found family of sorts, The Weasleys are great and all but they could've done something more. Harry is a dense mother trucker, Hogwarts has her work cut out for her with Harry. The Dursley's would of course never be accepting of anything LGBTQ+ so Harry doesn't know he's a he yet, but he'll get there. Characters will be in and out of character simply because Harry Potter was written by Daniel Radcliff and he would let me write Trans!Harry.
Relationships: I haven't yet decided, Ships will be tagged later on, they are children
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	1. Sowing of Seeds

**Author's Note:**

> Almost everyone knows the bickering in the fandom on what skin color Hermione has. Is she pale like stated in Half Blood Prince with her resemblance to a Panda? Or is Hermione "very brown" like stated in Prisoner of Azkaban? My personal headcanon is that she's Hispanic-Mix like I am. The complexion I'm specifically thinking of is a mix of Shay Mitchell and Penelope Cruz for Hermione. However, I'm not going to stop you from imagining Hermione as you like.   
> This story starts of with Nagini's thoughts, Enjoy!

_My master has been missing for many moons. I know not if he is truly alive or not, my bond is strained by not snapped so I can only assume that he has used one of his prizes to come back. Food is difficult to find when all animals are magical and have a 6th sense. The woes of a magical snake second only to the King. Food sadly leads to the muggle world, Tom would hate me being near such despicable beings._

The smallest scrape of scales on the musty stonework floor of The Leaky Cauldron went unnoticed.

~~~

“Fred Weasley!” Molly yelled across the burrow. Her turquoise hair was slightly floating with anger.

“I'm not Fred, I'm George.” One of the twins said, green and silver tie around his neck.

“I-” Molly’s anger was only added too, “Both of you had better _hope_ that your father finds this humorous!” The only 3 that hadn't been re-colored were the prankster twins and Ron Weasley. Everyone had glossed over Ron, even his own brothers. Ronald Bilius Weasley would give anything to be in the limelight, just once, just this once he would prove himself.

~~~

Hermione had known she wasn't a normal girl. Untamable brown hair that broke nearly every hairbrush, an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and the inability to connect with those her age. The more she tried to socialize with her peers all throughout school, the more they called her weird and strange. It hurt her to not be able to talk with many people, but she had her books. Each month she read, and each month she could understand more.

By the time she was 10, Hermione Granger was able to read texts meant for Year 13 students. It had started with fantasy books of course, being a child meant that there had to be something fueling the imagination, soon though she wanted to learn the history of the world, and learn she did. Her favorite reads so far included the Witch Trials of both the U.S. and the U.K. and the Jim Crow laws and what they did.

“Mija?” Dr. Granger, well one of them, had knocked three times on her daughters door and had received no answer. “I’m coming in,” the white door opened to reveal the honey brown ringlets of a petite girl with a law book thicker than her arms. Hermione didn’t look up from her studying, her mother crept closer. “Mija?,” Finally she jumped and looked up to her mother, “I’ve been calling you for a bit now. You had wanted to help me with dinner?”  
“Oh, right! Lemme get a bookmark…” She trailed off, swiveling her head side to side looking for the small strip of paper that had some dogs on it.

~~~

Everyone everywhere went about their day doing the things they want or love. Except for a small child in the broom cupboard of Number 4 Privet Drive of Surrey England. Two weeks away from turning 10 years old, one would think that Dahlia Euphemia Potter would be shopping with her aunt or perhaps on the phone with friends talking about dresses and make-up. But no, she wasn’t even considered pretty enough for a proper dress, Dahlia’s clothes consisted of dresses hemmed from no longer wearable shirts from Vernon and Dudley Dursley. The Dursley Family had gone out to eat at a new restaurant that had opened up around 10 minutes away from Vernon’s work.

Dahlia used to hope that someone would notice the smudges on her face or the callouses on her hands, maybe even the difference in size between her and her cousin Dudley; now though all she could do was count the small cuts and burns on her hands and arms from being forced to cook and clean since as long as she could remember to alleviate her boredom. _  
_


	2. The Edge of a Tipping Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A garden scare and A talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish words to know:  
> Mija - My kid (daughter) [pronounced Me-Ha]  
> Abuela - Grandma [Ah-bwel-ah, bwel like dwell]  
> Bisabuela - Great Grandma [B-izah-bwel-ah, izah like the ending of pizza]  
> Bruja(s) - Witch(es) [Brew-ha]  
> If your curious the masculine of Mija is Mijo [Me-Ho]4.

Dahlia works tirelessly to pluck the weeds from the roses next to the back door. She was exhausted as the spiders in the cupboard had been getting braver and trying to crawl over her while she tried to get some sleep. She flicked her head up, something had moved in her peripheral vision. Scanning the backyard of Privet Drive, Dahlia saw nothing. Turning back to the plant in front of her she noticed a couple of browning leaves. Trimming them she got up to put them in the small compost pile next to the shed.

Dahlia then brushed off her knees,  _ 'Aunt Petunia will kill me for needing a shower. This wouldn’t happen if she gave me bloody trousers' _ , and gathered a small watering can and trowel to go to the plants up front. Passing through a gate on the side of the house, she could have sworn she felt somebody watching her.  _ Probably Petunia making sure I don’t kill ‘her’ plants. _

She got on her knees in front of the pansies her aunt liked to grow. The indigo agapanthus was just starting to bud on her left. Dahlia started patting the soft soil under each stem of flowers; not finding any weeds, she gently tips the watering can at the roots of each plant, being careful to not over water them. Moving on to the plants to the other side of the front lawn, she pats the ground around the flowers like before. Her hand touches something cool to the touch, soft ridges under her finger tips.

A feminine voice screams in shock.

Dahlia barely chokes down her own yelp.

“How dare a filthy human touch me! I hope you know that a drop of my venom can kill 50 grown men!” A long snake slithers out of the plant Dahlia had launched herself back from, it’s head moving outward horizontally to give it a diamond shape. It’s sight had locked onto Dahlia, jaw opening to show long fangs.

_ Why the hell can’t I move? Why the **hell** can’t I move? Why the hell **can’t I move**? _

After a couple of minutes of neither one moving from their spots, the snake slowly un-puffs taking on a smaller diamond shape.

“Wait a minute...,” The snake flicks its (her?) tongue, “why do you smell like my Tom?”

Dahlia looks around, seeing no one talking as if they were the snake, she hesitantly asks “Are,” Dahlia clears her throat, finding it slightly scratchy, “Are you talking?”

“Yes I’m talking! All snakes can --” The serpent cuts herself off, “A Speaker!” She launches herself onto the tiny human, coiling snuggly around Dahlia’s frame.

Dahlia shrieks, loud enough for Aunt Petunia to rush to the front door, “Dahlia!” She scans to see if any of the neighbors are looking, “Get inside now! In your room you get!” her voice had a scathing tone, not quite loud enough for anyone else to overhear.

In a panic, Dahlia rushes to her cupboard, and behind her the locks click. Once she calms down, she notices that the snake is still wrapped around her.

~~~

A freshly turned 10 year old Hermione made her way downstairs towards her mother’s office next to the greeting room. Gently knocking, she opened the dark wooden door, not waiting for a come in because she was specifically asked to come. The shuffling of paperwork greeted her ears as she looked around, she wasn’t often allowed in either of her parent’s office spaces. A calendar hanging on the right hand wall had September 20th circled over and over with a teal marker, loopy handwriting reading ‘tell her’.

_ Tell who, what exactly? Me? What has my mother hid from me? _

The clicking of a pen, and a small thud of it being tossed onto the desk broke Hermione’s train of thought. Dr. Granger gestures to the decorative armchairs with a small coffee table between them, a silent offer of a seat. Hermione struggles to sit with both feet on the floor, the material of the arm chair scratchy. With a sigh, Dr. Granger sits in the armchair next to her. A minute ticks by, each trying to gather their thoughts.

Biting her lips, Mione’s mom starts, “You know how we are going to be visiting your cousins in Mexico yes?”

Hermione gives a small nod.

“There’s something I need to explain, because I don’t want you to freak out,” she hesitates, then sighs. “Halloween over there isn’t exactly the Halloween we know today, instead they have a three day celebration, starting with Noche de Brujas, or Night of the Witches,” Dr. Granger pauses reflecting on her wording. “Not to be confused with celebrating Halloween, no it’s more similar to the Samhain that hedge witches celebrate here. You know what I’m talking about, it was one of your hyperfixations while you were studying the witch trials.”

Hermione nodded again. _Where is she going with this?_

Seeing the suspicion in her daughter’s eyes she continues, “You and I are part of a long, long line of Brujas. Every few years, no one knows why our family tends to all have kids at the same time, every kid age 10 or 11 has to do a test in front of the current Matriarch of the family, who is usually that generation’s abuela or bisabuela.”

Slowly processing this information, Hermione finally asks a question, “So you have to take a test to be a part of the family?”

“No!” Dr. Granger quickly interjects, “No, it's a test to see if you have The Gift. So far, the last of our line who has had the gift was your great to the fourth power abuela, who died before I was born. Our family does not abandon anyone mija, gift or not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos! I didn't think people would read this like as soon as I posted the first chapter. I'm struggling a bit to find my writing style, as I want to be kinda vague so you can imagine the characters moving as you want but I'm thinking I'm being to vague. I also think that the chapters are short, but I'm having difficulty about how I want the scenes to play out, y'know? I have it plotted but how to go about it is a bit overwhelming as I keep forgetting what words I want to use.
> 
> Let me know how edgy Ron should be. ^_^' Ron's personality is half-backed right now and can go to simple teen angst or psycho


End file.
